


look after you

by minyardhoes



Series: genderswap aftg [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingering, Genderbend, its sort of soft, this is basically just sex?? thats pretty much all i write lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 16:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyardhoes/pseuds/minyardhoes
Summary: It begins like this: Andrea offers her a cigarette. Naomi accepts. They smoke together by the open window, and Andrea says offhandedly, “Nobody’s in the room tonight.”





	look after you

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is short, but I love fem!andreil and i feel bad for never writing them before

It begins like this: Andrea offers her a cigarette. Naomi accepts. They smoke together by the open window, and Andrea says offhandedly, “Nobody’s in the room tonight.”

 

Neither of them say it, yet the implications are clear. It’s just them tonight. Nicky, Kevin and Aaron are all out, either by Andrea’s manipulations or because of chance. (Naomi is fairly sure it’s the former.)

 

And by the time they stumble in after practice, freshly showered and holding hands, their lips are on each other before the door has even has chance to close.

 

“It’s a yes,” Naomi reassures when she feels Andrea tense. This whole  _ it’s a yes until it’s a no  _ thing is still fresh, and Andrea is always overly cautious. Naomi doesn’t want cautious - not tonight. She wants Andrea to take complete control, send her careening into a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves her toes quivering. “ _ Definitely _ a yes.” 

 

“Eager,” Andrea comments, despite her being the one who pulled Naomi down for a kiss.

 

“You’ve kept me waiting all day,” Naomi quips. “It’s not my fault.”

 

“Take your clothes off,” Andrea orders. Naomi does exactly that, pulling herself out of her clothes, completely naked underneath Andrea’s eyes apart from her underwear. She is not the slightest bit self conscious of the scars littering her body. Not anymore. By now, Andrea can trace the patterns of them from memory, as well as recount the story for each of them.

 

All she can think about is  _ her _ \- Andrea’s hot lips on the shell of her ear, Andrea’s teeth digging marks into her neck, Andrea’s fingers deftly skimming Naomi’s inner thighs. She’s always been good at teasing. By the time Andrea finally skims her fingers over where they need to be, Naomi is dripping wet, low whines escaping through her teeth.

 

Andrea notices her desperation. She rewards it by pushing her thumb over Naomi’s clit through the thin fabric of her underwear.

 

“Yes or no?” Andrea asks quietly, running her tongue along the hollow of Naomi’s collarbone. 

 

Of course her answer is yes - she whispers it with such fervour that it burns, her tongue aches for something to chase the affirmation with. She follows her  _ yes _ with a kiss, slotting her lips against Andrea’s and falling into a practised rhythm which they’ve practiced many times. Kissing is a comfort now, no longer new, no longer daunting.

 

Naomi’s bra is unclasped with practised ease. Andrea leaves a path of wet, open mouthed kisses down her chest. One of her hands comes up to cup Naomi’s breast, squeezing slightly, thumb brushing over the nipple.

 

“Andrea,” she moans, pushing her hips up for  _ some  _ attempt to gain more friction. Andrea leaves her with nothing but the pad of her finger, moving it in maddening circles. When Naomi tries to tug off her underwear, Andrea grips her wrist -  _ wait. _

 

When Andrea finally decides the underwear can come off, she is halfway down the bed, head positioned neatly between Naomi’s legs. This is one of Naomi’s favorite sensations, a hot tongue working her expertly to the brink, fingers twisting and curling inside of her  _ just right _ .

 

“Put your hands in my hair,” Andrea says, her hot breath slipping over Naomi’s thigh, followed by several hard kisses. With each kiss, she gets closer and closer to where she needs to be. Naomi complies to her request, snaking her fingers through Andrea’s blonde hair, tugging ever so slightly. It’s not enough to be commanding. Just enough to be reassuring.

 

Naomi’s legs are pushed wider apart. She is so vulnerable, entirely at the mercy of whatever Andrea decides to do.

 

She knows that Andrea will take care of her. She always does.

 

Two fingers are inside of Naomi when a hot tongue darts out and presses against her clit. It takes serious self control - control she wasn’t aware she possessed - to hold back. All Naomi wants to do is roll her hips up, use Andrea’s tongue to get herself off, but she knows that moving will ruin this. This perfect is glass, fragile and shining, and the last thing she wants to do is shatter it.

 

Instead, she groans, “ _ Oh _ my god.”

 

Andrea has always been unfairly talented with her mouth, but there is something different about tonight. There’s no rushing, no muffling and no stopping just in case Kevin might have woken up. She doesn’t stop, not even when Naomi tugs at her hair, something which would usually earn her a glare.

 

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ \- oh my god, Andrea, your mouth, your mouth, so good -”

 

She doesn’t tell Naomi to shut up. She keeps going. Naomi is fairly sure her soul exits her body when Andrea slides her tongue down, stretching her jaw and teasing her Naomi’s entrance.

 

From then on, it doesn’t take long.

 

Pleasure blinds her. She’s fairly sure she’s crying. When she blinks back sanity, Andrea is back by her side, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

Loose-limbed and already exhausted, Naomi turns her head, greeted by a pair of sharp hazel eyes.

 

She has enough presence of mind to ask, “What about you?”

 

Andrea rolls her eyes, as if being here is the last place she wants to be, except there’s a flush to her cheeks which betrays her apparent disinterest. When Andrea guides Naomi’s hand beneath her underwear, she is slick with arousal.

 

Andrea comes like that, with Naomi’s fingers rubbing circles on her clit. She always looks like something out of Naomi’s dreams when she comes - head thrown back, jaw tight, eyes squeezed shut.

 

The last thing Naomi hears before she falls asleep is, “Fucking junkie.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I may have only written them once in my whole life, but I love these lesbians


End file.
